A/N: In which it's clear the author watched Supernatural too many times. Trapping angels in rings of fire is just what we do.

The summons—a low vibration he felt deep in his chest—had never gone off before. It took him a moment to even remember what it was.

Gabriel shooed Uriel away and peered around to make sure no one else was about before he allowed the summons to pull him. He grimaced though he was unsurprised when it pulled him toward Earth.

He materialized in a garden. Next to fire. This particular type of fire was one of the few things in existence that could actually strike fear in an archangel.

The Supreme Archangel Gabriel made a high pitched squawk and, well, skittered rather gracelessly backward, nearly bumping into his hellish counterpart, Prince of Hell, Lord Beelzebub.

"What is this?" Gabriel asked. "Are you … would you dare try to trap me, hellspawn? I'm the archangel Gabriel. Do you have any idea how easily I could destroy you?"

Beelzebub rolled their eyes. "Relax, your most supreme highness, prince of melodrama. You know how this summons works."

"It's for emergencies only," Gabriel said, keeping his voice at its most fierce.

"So it is." Beelzebub seemed unconcerned. "And you well know I couldn't have summoned you if I meant you any harm."

"Gabriel."

The timid voice focused Gabriel's attention. He swung back toward the fire and noticed the presence of a man behind it.

No. Not a man. An angel. One of his angels, surrounded by a ring of hellfire.

"Aziraphale?" Gabriel knitted his brow and turned toward Beelzebub again, this time taking in the sight of a demon, bound by chains that came up from the ground and encircled his wrists, kneeling at their feet. "What is this?"

"A good question," Beelzebub said dryly.

"Listen, you're all blowing this so far out of proportion," the demon said, his tone suggesting he found them all just a little ridiculous. "I'm telling you. You're going to be so embarrassed when—"

His voice cut out with a cry he swallowed even as his body folded forward. Beelzebub had their hand raised, fist clenched as the demon writhed at their feet, their eyes glinting with malevolence. "Silence, traitor." She released her fist and the demon's tensed body relaxed, his shoulders heaving with his deep, ragged breaths.

"He's not a traitor," Aziraphale said, a frantic note to his voice. "I keep trying to tell you. You don't need to do that."

"Be quiet, angel," the demon snarled at Aziraphale. It took some effort, but he straightened up as far as his manacles would allow. He raised his head and grinned at Beelzebub as if they hadn't been the one torturing him only seconds before. "Don't listen to him. He's embarrassed; though, turnabout's fair play on that score, isn't it?" He sneered at Aziraphale, whose brows furrowed at the expression.

"See, it's like this, your most low and, well, highnesses." The demon looked at Gabriel. "Your angel has been a real pain in my ass of late, getting in my way at every turn." He tried to gesture and winced as the chains pulled at his wrist. Instead, he nodded at Beelzebub. "That's what you were doing here in the first place, right? You came to see for yourself why my assignment isn't going as planned. Well, now you know why."

Gabriel glanced at Aziraphale, catching the last second when his perplexed expression turned into something more haughty. He raised his chin as if to say, 'well of course'.

"So, I said to myself, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?" the demon said.

Despite himself, Gabriel's lip quirked. He did like a turn of phrase.

"I told the angel fair was fair and let me buy you a drink for a game well played."

"A drink?" Gabriel's lips twisted in disgust. He shook his head, looking at Aziraphale. "So the demon knows your filthy habit of ingesting human matter."

"See, that's the trouble, your graciousness. Human matter is, well, it's … I suppose you'd just have to try it. The plan was to see what the angel was up to. Get him to admit his secrets or, at least, get him to cock up somehow, eh? But, well, the wine was a bit potent, shall we say?"

Beelzebub scoffed. "Here I was prepared to be just a little bit impressed by you. I didn't think it was possible to tempt an angel."

"I wouldn't be that impressed, if that's what happened. He's only a principality, after all, and a weird one at that. Tempt an angel." Gabriel scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Aziraphale. "What are they talking about?"

Aziraphale avoided his eyes, ducking his head.

"That's what I'm trying to say. I didn't tempt him." The demon curled his lip in disgust. "That, ugh … That's foul."

"So, you wanted to kiss him then?" Beelzebub demanded.

Gabriel balked. Horrified. "Kiss him? You let this … thing kiss you? So that's what this is about?"

Aziraphale glanced at him furtively, but he tilted his chin up. "I didn't—"

"We were both off our heads, I'm telling you," the demon interrupted. "We were down among the humans when the night started out, and you know how this lot gets with their, er … substances. I'm not going to say it was a smart thing, but the point is, there was no traitoring going around. He didn't give up Heaven's trade secrets. No one collaborated with anyone."

"No, you just turned an angel into a drinking buddy."

"And kissed him. Bleh." Gabriel couldn't get the image out of his head, and it was horrific to say the least. "That's wrong on … so many levels." He snapped his fingers. The ring of hellfire disappeared from around Aziraphale and binds appeared around his wrists. Not like the demon—there were no chains—but the angel looked sick at the sight of them. "Kissing alone. Why would anyone want to do that?" Gabriel muttered under his breath, sticking out his tongue as though he could taste the filth. He glared at Aziraphale. "And who would willingly touch a demon?"

Rather than look down with shame as Gabriel would have expected of a chastised angel, Aziraphale glanced at the demon. It was a quick movement, and he looked quickly away, down at his feet as he should have.

Gabriel grimaced and turned away from the lead demon. He made a gesture, and Aziraphale pitched forward as though being dragged. He got up in the angel's face, staring him right in the eyes. "No. I don't think you betrayed Heaven, Aziraphale, but this is vile. You and I are going to have a long talk about what it means to be an angel. This trash isn't fit to be dirt on your shoe. He's a demon. You will understand that. Neither of these are fit to look you in the eye. Have some self-respect."

"Oh, such pretty words, Supreme Archangel." Beelzebub said in a mocking, lilting tone. They clenched a fist, and the demon at their feet arched backward, his own hands clenched in fists in front of him. This time, his teeth were gritted so he barely made a sound. "As for you, Crowley, I know just what to do with you."

"You don't have to do that," Aziraphale said. He took a step forward, but Gabriel held him still with his invisible connection to the binds.

"Be quiet, Aziraphale. He's fallen. He deserves what he gets." Gabriel hissed. Then, he tilted his head as Beelzebub's words sank in. "Wait a minute."

He turned back to the Prince of Hell and their captive. "Did you say … Crowley?"

The demon had his head turned away. He didn't acknowledge Gabriel as the Supreme Archangel stepped forward. Gabriel waved a hand at Beelzebub, shooing them out of the way like the flies that buzzed around them. He took Crowley's chin in an iron grip and forced him to tilt his head up. With a gesture, the glasses that hid his eyes fell away, leaving him staring defiantly up at Gabriel. Crowley tried to wrest his head out of his grip, but Gabriel only held him tighter. "I know you."

The demon grinned, all teeth. "Oh, you do now, do you? It must pain you to actually look someone in the eyes for once. You'd have seen me a lot sooner if you did."

"And why would I have wanted to see those nasty eyes, serpent?" Gabriel pushed Crowley's face away, turning his back. He looked at Beelzebub and gestured with his chin. "I need a word with you."

Beelzebub made a disgruntled noise, but they followed Gabriel out of earshot of the other two. Gabriel tilted his head to the sky, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you testing me, Lord?" He shook his head and turned around to face Beelzebub. "We have a problem. I can't let you drag your little minion down to the pit. Well, I suppose you can. But not for long, and you can't destroy him."

Beelzebub narrowed their eyes at Gabriel. "Begging your pardon, your grace, but it's not actually your place to tell me how to handle my demons."

Gabriel raised his hands. "Far be it from me. If I never had to lay eyes on that one again …" The way Crowley had looked at him, his gaze full of loathing and not an ounce of reverent fear, had rubbed him the wrong way. "The problem is, they're written into the Great Plan. The both of them."

Beelzebub stared. "What are you talking about? It can't be."

"Crowley. The serpent who tempted Adam and Eve. Aziraphale. The angel of the Eastern Gate, who kicked them out of Eden. They were the ones who began it. They'll be there when it ends; though, I can't imagine in what capacity. Not my place. But regardless, they should remain on Earth."

"That is … ridiculous."

"It is written."

"But surely, we can't let this stand. An angel and a demon … fraternizing." They sneered.

Gabriel watched the two. Their heads were bent, but though they didn't appear to be looking, Gabriel could swear they were muttering to each other. "No. We'll just have to be creative."

He explained the plan. Luckily, the Prince of Hell seemed much less dimwitted than the vast majority of their legions. And they didn't argue either. But then, Gabriel had given them a free pass at an angel.

Not what he wanted, but Aziraphale had brought it on himself.

"Right. You take him," Gabriel said, loud enough for both the miscreants to hear. "I'll take yours. Remember—bury the threat deep. It needs to stay in their subconscious minds."

"What?" Aziraphale protested as Beelzebub went up to him. "What is this? Get your hands off me."

Gabriel focused his attention on the demon who was already glaring daggers at him. He didn't hesitate, but grabbed Crowley's face in both of his hands, pressing the pad of each finger deep into Crowley's skull just as Beelzebub was doing to Aziraphale now. Crowley's eyes went wide, fear flashing in them for the first time.

"What's the matter, Crowley? Does it feel like you've been here before?" Gabriel said, a vindictive grin spreading wide across his face. "Don't worry. These memories are nothing you'll miss. I'm even doing you a favor, taking memories of such a disgusting mistake."

Before the demon could run his mouth again, Gabriel dug his fingers all the way in, white light appearing where he touched the demon's mind. Crowley's mouth opened in a scream of soundless agony, his hands clenched in fists, fighting against the chains that kept him still. Gabriel spun the wheel of Crowley's personal time backward, searing the memory of around half a day from his mind.

When Gabriel spoke, he did so with the double timbre of divinity, with the weight of all his authority behind it. "Now hear this, demon Crowley. You were judged unworthy of Heaven and all its wonders. How dare you even look on anything holy? If you think to touch or speak or so much as glance at something that is ours again, you will bring the wrath of God down upon you."

He let go of Crowley then. The demon crumpled into a heap at his feet. Only a second later, with a little, pained cry, Aziraphale too fell over onto his side, just as unconscious as his drinking buddy.

After a moment, staring down at their still forms, Gabriel sighed. "Aziraphale's business here is finished. I'll send him on his way. On horseback. He hates horseback."

Beelzebub hummed, the sound thoughtful. "You truly believe there's no real problem here besides two supposed enemies imbibing themselves into drunkenness?"

Gabriel scoffed. "Aziraphale's choices are questionable, but he isn't stupid."

"Still. It shouldn't have been possible at all, not even being drunk. An angel and a demon." Beelzebub shuddered. "We'll need to keep an eye on this."

"Yes," Gabriel admitted grudgingly. "Agreed."

A/N: Gabriel is THE WORST.